


fill me up, baby

by scienceblues



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, Gas-N-Sip (Supernatural), Gas-N-Sip Employee Castiel (Supernatural), Getting Together, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29031843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scienceblues/pseuds/scienceblues
Summary: Dean has a brief bewildered moment where he wonders if he’s read this all wrong when he suddenly remembers.Friggin’ Jersey.Dean sighs and drums his fingers on the wheel. “You’re really not gonna let me pump my own gas, are you?”---A 5+1 fic featuring gas station attendant Cas.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 125





	fill me up, baby

**Author's Note:**

> This was a joke AU spawned by me being the lone Jersey girl in the group chat and the others wanting to know how getting gas here works. I have therefore created a fic that is in no way accurate to the Jersey gas pumping experience.
> 
> Unfortunately I have no other explanation for this other than a deep love of Steve!Cas and a deep-seated desire to introduce Dean to pork roll. Liberties were taken re: car stuff. Enjoy!

1.

Damn traffic. Bad enough that Dean should’ve been at Sam’s new place a few hours ago if not for being unlucky enough to hit the tail end of rush hour, but he also blew through most of his last quarter tank of gas in just a few short miles. There’s a reason he’s only been up to visit Sam a few times since he landed a cushy job at one of the law firms in the city, and it’s not just because Philly’s so far from Kansas. 

To make matters worse, Sam’s promotion means he and Eileen decided to move out of their apartment and into the suburbs - on the Jersey side of the city. The _wrong_ side. Something Sam failed to mention when he asked if Dean would mind visiting to lend an extra hand on some home improvement projects around their new fixer-upper.

So now he’s got a working vacation from his regular job at Bobby and Ellen’s contracting firm, but hey, he hasn’t seen Sam and Eileen in long enough that he isn’t too picky about it. Not that he’s going to let them pay him his normal fee for his labor like they offered, but it’s the thought that counts. It’s almost enough to make up for the fact that he had to battle with Philly rush hour traffic when he’s already exhausted at the end of a long trip.

As soon as he gets off the Whitman and takes the exit that’ll bring him to Sam’s slice of suburban paradise, he’s on the lookout for a gas station. After passing a dozen overcrowded Wawas in a row, he’s about to give up on being able to find a Gas-N-Sip and being able to use his rewards points when he finally spots one on the next block. Dean makes the turn with a relieved glance at the fuel gauge. 

He’s busy gathering up his wallet and phone - it’s his first time visiting since Sam and Eileen moved in, so as much as he hates it, he should probably map out the rest of the way to the house while he’s filling up - when he sees a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye. He turns to see a dark-haired guy with eyes almost as blue as his dorky vest leaning down into the window. 

Dean cranks the window down. “Yeah, pal?” The guy’s got a name tag perched on the vest - _Steve_ , it reads. Curious clerk on a smoke break, he guesses. His baby attracts her fair share of attention wherever she goes.

Steve blinks as if he’s confused, even though _he’s_ the one who came up to Dean. “Are you here to fill up?”

Looking around the empty gas station parking lot, Dean says, “Sure didn’t come here for the scenery. No offense.”

The clerk doesn’t look offended, but he does stay exactly where he is, almost as if he’s waiting for something.

Dean pokes around on his phone for another minute, punching in the address and letting the map load up a route that’ll take him around the worst of the traffic. When he looks up, Steve’s at least straightened away from the window, but he’s still just standing there. A little annoyed, Dean says, “Listen, man, there’s plenty of pumps open if someone else comes around. World’s not gonna end if I take a second before I start filling up.”

Steve’s still got that confused squint, and Dean has a brief bewildered moment where he wonders if he’s read this all wrong, if the guy didn’t get lost coming back from having a smoke and instead might actually be hitting on him, when he suddenly remembers. 

Friggin’ Jersey.

Dean sighs and drums his fingers on the wheel. “You’re really not gonna let me pump my own gas, are you?” 

One of Steve’s shoulders lifts in a shrug. “Depends if you ever plan on telling me what kind of gas you want.”

Dean scoffs. “C’mon, you can’t really think a car like this deserves anything less than premium. Not really filling me with confidence, here, dude.”

He means it in a half-joking way, but once the words are out there, he has to suppress a wince at how harsh they come off. At least Steve doesn’t seem too put off by Dean inadvertently telling him he can’t do his job. He just cocks an eyebrow and moves placidly over to the pump, picking up the nozzle for premium. “If you don’t tell me how much gas you need and how you want to pay, I’m going to have to guess.”

“Whoa, whoa, hey! Nobody touches my car but me.” No way he’s letting some random guy fumble his way around the gas cap. At least Steve’s already stepped well away from the driver’s side door, so he’s free to swing it wide open and follow him over to the pump.

“You’re not allowed to help.”

“I won’t touch the pump, I promise. You even know where to find the tank on her?”

The look that Steve levels at him is thoroughly unimpressed. “You’re not the only person who drives a classic car. I can make an educated guess. Cash or card?”

“Educated-” Dean cuts himself off before he stick his foot in his mouth any further, and hands over his rewards card so Steve can run it. “Well, Steve, here’s the thing-”

“Castiel.”

Dean pauses at the interruption. “Huh?”

“My name is Castiel, not Steve.” 

“What, this joint’s too cheap to get name tags for everyone?” Dean asks. Wouldn’t surprise him.

Castiel looks away. “A surprising number of people asked about my name on a daily basis. Steve is easier.”

Dean doesn’t want to point out that it doesn’t help if Castiel introduces himself to anyone who says more than two words to him in passing, either. “Well, _Castiel_ , I’m Dean, and this car’s my baby. Now that we’re all up to speed, let me show you how to treat her right, okay?”

True to his word, Dean keeps his hands well away from the actual pump, instead flipping up the plate and opening the revealed cap so that Castiel can guide the nozzle into the tank. There’s an audible clunk as he fully seats it, and then the rushing sound of gasoline pouring in starts up.

While Dean might be overprotective when it comes to his car, he’s also not an asshole. Tries not to be, anyway. Now that he’s out of the car he realizes his hovering is really not doing much other than implying he doesn’t trust the guy to do his job. Clearing his throat, he says, “Seems like a fancy area, from what I’ve seen so far. Get a lot of classics?”

Castiel shrugs, looking down at where Dean is leaning his weight onto the lid of the trunk. He keeps a few careful inches between himself and the rear bumper. “Not a whole lot, to be honest. What about yours? What’s her story?”

The tinny pop music playing over the speakers is grating enough that Dean’s tempted to launch into the whole history of his car, but that’s dangerous territory. “Probably not the best thing to ask me, man. Give me a chance to talk about my car and I’ll go all day.” He doesn’t want to bore the guy to death when he’s just trying to do his job. Besides, Castiel’s just being polite.

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Castiel says mildly. “I can tell she means a lot to you, and not just for how much you paid for her. Unlike the few others that have stopped here before.”

A brief silence settles between them, broken only by the faint music still playing in the background. Dean searches for something to say, trying to avoid any awkward silence now that he’s gotten himself into this mess. “What about you? You get a lot of out-of-towners weirded out by the no-pumping thing?” 

“Some. Most people are at least from the tri-state area, so they’re not as surprised as you are. I don’t see Kansas plates very often.”

“Yeah, takes one hell of a drive to get-”

The pump shuts off abruptly, cutting Dean off mid-sentence. In one smooth motion Castiel taps the nozzle against the rim of the tank a few times to shake off the excess gas before returning it to its place at the pump.

“Gotta say, I was expecting a secret ingredient or something. Seems like the same gas pump I’m allowed to operate in every other state.”

“We’re not allowed to use the top-secret gas pumps if the customer is out of the car,” Castiel explains, perfectly straight-faced. “Looks like your car survived someone going within ten feet of her.”

“Nah, thanks for dealing with the helicopter parent routine. It’s just not what I’m used to, you know?”

“Well, now that you know someone here can fuel you up without making you break out in hives, you’re always welcome back.”

Dean huffs out a laugh as he stands from the trunk, twirling his keys around his finger. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

2.

“Back again?”

“What can I say, you can’t beat the rewards program. Kind of important when you go through as much gas in a year as I do.”

Castiel nods. “And I’m sure there aren’t any Gas-N-Sips closer to you.” 

“Wawas on every corner up by my brother’s house. You know how it is.”

The corners of Castiel’s eyes crinkle when he smiles, enough that Dean doesn’t mind that he can see right through his bullshit. “And what is it that makes you go through so much gas in a year, Dean?”

“Construction, renovations, all that kind of thing. Everything’s within city limits or close to it, but all that driving adds up.”

“Wouldn’t a van be more practical for work than this car is?”

He’s had this conversation a million times - mostly Bobby and Ellen giving him shit for it, not as his bosses, but as the closest thing he has to parents anymore - but Castiel doesn’t sound judgmental, just curious. “Hey, you can take my baby’s keys away from me when I’m dead. Until then, ain’t nothing that can keep me away from her.”

“I’m starting to get that impression.” Castiel looks down the length of the Impala and says, “So, are you going to let me fill your car up without a fight this time, or do you still need to supervise?”

“That’s a strong word, Cas.” The nickname rolls off his tongue, catching him by surprise. Even Castiel blinks and tilts his head to the side. He doesn’t object, though, even when Dean gets out of the car. “But I thought I might keep you company out here. You know, just to make sure you’ve got it handled.”

“Oh, by all means,” Castiel says, all serious as if it’s the most reasonable thing in the world, and Dean only has a fleeting moment to realize he might be in trouble before he’s following Castiel back to the trunk.

3.

Dean squints suspiciously at the kid who appears from the attendant booth. Sure enough, he approaches the window with a chirped, “Welcome to Gas-N-Sip, what can I get for you?”

“Is Cas around?”

“Um.” The kid visibly deflates. Surely Dean isn’t the only person the chipper routine doesn’t work on. “He’s on break right now.”

“I’ll just wait til he’s back. You mind if I stay here, or do you want me to pull into a space?”

The question seems to put him back in the kid’s good graces, enough to let him turn off the engine and wait right next to the pump for Cas to arrive. He’s busy texting Sam, fielding questions on how long, exactly, it takes a guy to run out and pick up paint, when he hears footsteps approaching behind him. “I think Alfie’s worried I might have a stalker,” comes Cas’s amused rumble from the open window next to him.

“That’s the infamous Alfie, huh?” Cas has mentioned him a few times as one of the few coworkers he can stand, and he has to admit, the name kind of suits the kid. “So what, he doesn’t have any friends who visit him while he’s at work?”

“He doesn’t. To be fair, I don’t, either.”

“Well, hey, now you got one.”

Cas ducks his head, and for a second Dean thinks he might’ve gone too far, but when he looks up again he looks pleased by the comment. “Is that so?”

“Come on, you don’t think I’d let just anyone fill up my tank, do you?” Dean retorts.

Cas stifles a laugh and opens the driver’s side door for him, stepping back to allow Dean to join him. The routine of Dean handing over his rewards card so Cas can get the pump started is familiar by now - he really should feel a little ashamed by how fast he’s been blowing through gas lately, but the price has stayed low, and besides, it’s hard to be bothered by it when Cas is standing close enough that their shoulders are knocking together. Dean really can’t bring himself to mind that Cas apparently has no concept of personal space when it comes to him.

“I’m flattered,” Cas says, voice dry. “I don’t know what I’d do if I found out you and your car were cheating on me with some other attendant.”

Cas still hasn’t taken his hand off the nozzle, even though he’s engaged the automatic fill. Dean keeps his eyes fixed on it, unable to look Cas in the eye. “Wouldn’t dream of it. As long as your coworkers don’t try chasing me off to defend your honor and _you_ don’t think I’m a weird stalker, that is.”

Dean only hears Cas’s thoughtful hum above the hiss of gas because they’re standing so close. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he echoes.

4.

His next visit, Dean waits until Cas has started the pump to get out of the car and get his attention. “Hey, Cas. Got something for you.”

Cas only has a second to tilt his head before Dean tosses him one of the foil-wrapped packages sitting on the bench seat. Some of the warmth must be seeping through the wrapper, because Cas’s face immediately lights up as he unwraps the foil with gloved fingers. The groan he lets out oughta be illegal.

“You remembered the everything bagel,” Cas says around a mouthful of his pork roll egg and cheese sandwich as Dean sets up next to him, leaning against the trunk of the Impala, the nozzle chugging away in the space between them.

“The way you talked about this stuff, I figured I should try it the same way you order it.” Dean unwraps his sandwich tentatively and gets a mouthwatering whiff of fried meat. “Dude, you were right, this is _so_ up my alley.”

Cas lifts an eyebrow at him as he swallows his next bite. “Would I steer you wrong?”

Turns out he wouldn’t, but Dean knew that already. The first bite is nothing short of heavenly, all the flavors bursting across his tongue, and the warm wrapper in his hands is a nice bonus against the chill morning air. 

“You know, I think I’m starting to get why people like it here,” Dean says meditatively. He’s started feeling much less aggravated by everything about the whole state lately. “The weather sucks, and there’s way too many damn people on the road, but this is worth at least a little bit of the hassle.”

“The beaches. People like the beaches, too,” Cas points out.

“I’ve never been to the beach,” Dean admits. “Always wanted to go sometime.”

Cas bumps his elbow into Dean’s companionably. “It’s not that far of a drive. I’ll go with you, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, Cas, sounds like fun.”

5.

“How much do you need today?”

“Fill me up, Cas. Got a long haul ahead of me.”

Cas’s hand hesitates over the nozzle, but the time it takes him to pluck it out of its cradle and turn back to Dean isn’t enough to erase the dismayed furrow between his brows. “Where are you headed?”

“Back home,” Dean says. He isn’t prepared for the way his stomach drops when Cas’s face falls at his words, but he soldiers on anyway. “Sam and Eileen just broke the news I’m gonna be an uncle in another five months. I had this extended vacation lined up to fix up their house, but I’m gonna need to be a hell of a lot closer if I want to see my niece or nephew more than once in a blue moon once they’re born. Makes more sense to cut this visit short so I can get that ball rolling.”

Cas makes a thoughtful noise as he starts the nozzle. “How much closer are you thinking?” he says, face inscrutable. 

Dean swallows. “Been looking pretty much everywhere between here and the shore. Seems like there’s a couple areas around here with room on the market for someone with my background, and I know Jo’s been angling to step into a leadership role back at work. Bobby and Ellen might not like me moving away, but they’ll manage just fine without me.”

It takes another minute of Cas squinting at him before a small smile breaks out on his face. “You’ve just gotten used to having your gas pumped for you, haven’t you.”

That’s enough to startle a laugh out of Dean. “No, I’m gonna be glad to be back in the normal world for a little while, even if I’m just packing up to head back here.” He pauses for a second, then admits, “Gotten used to seeing you around, though.”

Cas reaches behind him to tear off his receipt and pulls a pen from the pocket of his vest. He scribbles something on it and then folds it into Dean’s hand, tucking Dean’s fingers around the thin slip of paper. “Keep me updated on your timeline.”

It’s such an odd thing to say that Dean can’t help the fond grin that cracks across his face. “I will,” he promises, tucking the receipt into his pocket for safekeeping. 

His gaze drops to the stupid name tag that still says _Steve_ on it. Dean thumbs at it with a faint laugh, and it’s only when Cas follows the motion of his hand and then looks back up at him that Dean realizes how close he’s gotten to him. “See you soon, Cas.”

He copies Cas’s carelessly scrawled number into his contacts list in the parking lot of a rest area just outside Pittsburgh and sends him a picture of his hand on the nozzle as he fills up the gas tank while he’s at it.

+1

As the rumble of the engine approaches the bank of pumps, Dean sees a dark head of hair in the seat inside the attendant’s booth lift in recognition. By the time he rolls up even with the booth, Cas is stepping out, all disbelieving wide eyes and tousled hair. 

He’s suddenly wildly glad for the veiled text asking about Cas’s work schedule he sent earlier, even if it meant having to wait an impatient few hours after getting settled back in at Sam and Eileen’s until he could justify heading over. Now that he’s here, he can’t imagine driving away again without Cas in the passenger seat.

The few seconds it takes to turn the engine off and pocket his keys feels like forever, but as soon as he’s out of the car Cas’s arms go around him in a tight hug, and he thinks it was worth every second of waiting.

“You never said you were on your way,” Cas says, voice muffled from speaking into Dean’s jacket.

Dean winces and holds him a little tighter. “Yeah, I didn’t mean to go so long between replies today, but, you know. Driving. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Well, it worked,” Cas says. He finally draws back far enough for Dean to get a good look at him, fingers a firm pressure against the back of Dean’s neck, and Dean can’t even be upset that their first kiss is going to be next to a gas pump because Cas is leaning in, lips chapped from the chill air but soft against his own, his scent crowded out by the heavy smell of gasoline lingering on the concrete around them.

A horn honks off in the distance, and Dean breaks away reluctantly, trailing his hands down the striped sleeves of the polo Cas is wearing under his vest. “Come on. I have it on good authority you’re off work as of a few minutes ago, and Sam and Eileen finished renovations last month. You’re invited to dinner in their fancy new dining room, if you want to come.”

“I do, but I think everyone would be happier if I showered and changed first. If you give me a ride back to my place I can be ready faster than I would be waiting for the bus.”

“Yeah, like I’m gonna make you take the bus instead of letting you get properly acquainted with my baby.” Dean climbs into the driver’s seat, and Cas follows his lead, tucking himself into the passenger side.

“You don’t need a fill?” he asks, looking back at the pump.

Dean snorts as he turns over the engine. “You have any idea how much driving I had to do to keep finding excuses to come see you? I don’t normally waste that much gas, Cas. Learned my lesson last time and filled up at Valley Forge, so I’m ready to get out of here if you are.”

Cas just grins at him, wide and gummy from across the bench, and tells him to drive.


End file.
